


Parasomniac

by Harukami



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Incest, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3966340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba's tired enough that he falls asleep in the middle of sex; he never expects to see his brother in anything but dreams, but he doesn't expect <i>this</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parasomniac

Aoba's tired when he gets home from a long day at work—there'd been a break-in, and he and Haga-san had to tidy and reorganize and check all of the missing stock and try to fix up the broken displays. He's tired when he and Ren fall into bed together, kissing, passing broad hands over each other's bodies. He doesn't think he'll fall asleep, reassures Ren that he's awake enough for this, wants it, and he means it, but he finds himself losing moments of time regardless. Ren is kissing his throat and then Ren has his mouth on a nipple and Aoba can't remember anything between; Ren's hand is on his stomach, Ren's same hand is on his rear, all between a blink. He fights sleep with his hands scraping down Ren's back, caught up in arousal and desire, body oversensitive, but loses regardless.

He realizes he's asleep as soon as it happens, even though he hadn't noticed any of the times he'd dropped off. He immediately regrets it, wanting to go back to Ren. He struggles to wake up, pushing through something, he's not sure what—touch, water, bedsheets. Ren will notice soon and withdraw, he knows; Ren won't continue like this, will lie down aroused and chagrined and try to sleep while aching, and Aoba wants to wake up and finish them both off.

"Shh," Sei says. The thing Aoba's pushing through tightens around his limbs, draw him back down. "You're tired, Aoba, so sleep if you need to."

"But Ren's—"

"Ren's a good boy," Sei says. He's all white and black, his long white hair wrapping around Aoba's naked limbs, trailing over them like silk. Aoba lets out a shudder as hair trails around his inner thigh and tightens. Sei presses in against him from behind and Aoba can feel his cock pressing in between his ass cheeks. Sei doesn't grind, just holds him tight, aroused. "He won't mind, Aoba, so rest. It's been a long day, hasn't it?"

"Brother," Aoba says, and he feels himself weaken. Sei is warm against his back, a living warm body, and he arches back against him with a groan. "But I want—"

"You can sleep and still have that."

He wants to agree; he can't tell what parts are Sei's long silky hair anymore, stroking over his stomach, his throat, can't tell what are Sei's arms and fingers, trailing low on his stomach. Which is which? He can't even tell what's up or down, what's reality or dream. "Mm, but—Ren is... I can't do that to Ren..."

"Ren would mind?"

Ren wouldn't mind. Ren would listen with a perplexed look but seize onto the main basic truth that Sei was here, that Sei existed somewhere in some kind of space. Even if only in dreams. Ren would trace the patterns on Aoba's skin where Aoba remembered Sei's hands or his hair or whatever part of Sei was there with a sense of awe and they'd make love again frantically as if trying to bring back this ghost. A ghost that was created when Aoba and Ren were expressing a love that shouldn't have been possible to exist, when Aoba couldn't stay awake. They'd make love like they were trying to make Sei as real and existent as their love.

He knows that, he thinks about that, and it only turns him on more. It's impossible not to be, as aroused as he is already with the memory of Ren's weight, Ren's hands, Ren's wet tongue following him into sleep, with this current reality (if it were real) of Sei's hands, Sei's warmth, Sei's hair wrapped around him, winding and winding cocoon-like. Every place he's being touched feels like it's buzzing; every place he _remembers_ being touched feels like it's buzzing.

"Ren wouldn't mind," Aoba whispers.

He can't ask Ren's permission, not like this, not already asleep, but they hadn't been able to ask Sei's permission the first time they used his body to make love either. He just has to have faith, he has to believe in what he knows of Ren's heart and Ren's desires. He just wants. 

"Aoba," Sei says into his ear.

Besides, _Sei_ wants too. It's clear from the pressure against him, from Sei's mouth moving softly along his jaw. Perhaps it's just a dream, if Sei wants anything. But even if this is incest, even if he hasn't been able to talk to Ren and make sure this isn't adultery, even if he's asleep, he can't turn down the idea of accepting Sei. Not if there's even a chance Sei has come to want _anything._

"Brother," Aoba says, and he twists in Sei's hair, in Sei's arms, and struggles against the weight to put his arms around Sei and lean up to kiss him.

Sei avoids his arms, arches his back away with a soft laugh, but ducks his head forward to kiss him back. Even his tongue is white, Aoba sees, white and slick and wet; something about that turns him on more. Aoba moans helplessly, rubbing his tongue against Sei's, lips catching and grabbing. He lets Sei take his arms with his hair, twist them up and back.

The motion forces Aoba's back to arch, and he feels pulled tight, wound tight, like a musical instrument with strings ready to break. He's so hard it hurts and he doesn't think he can last, whispers as much aloud in warning, "Don't, I'll come—".

"You won't come," Sei says, and hair wraps around the base of Aoba's cock, cinches tight. It aches more than any actual pain; makes him feel _too_ swollen, too full, tingles. He makes a strangled noise and Sei smirks. "See? I'll control that for you so it's fine. You won't make a mess. You won't come when Ren can't join you. Then it'll be fine, won't it? Aoba."

That hadn't been exactly what he'd meant, but he doesn't feel in any position to argue, either. He whispers, "Brother, Brother," instead like it's some kind of communication, lets Sei's silky hair lift his legs, part them. His entire weight is hanging in Sei's grasp and he doesn't have any control over his body and it feels amazing; when Sei's wet mouth envelops the tip of his cock he whimpers at the torture; when Sei presses slick fingers into him he doesn't even question it. He rocks between the two sensations until hair covers his eyes as well and blinds him; it temporarily freezes him as he wonders how he can feel blinded when he's already asleep, when his eyes are already really closed.

Reality slips; he starts to wake up and Sei's mouth withdraws from him, his fingers tug free, the hair slides from his eyes immediately. "Shh," Sei says. "Sleep, brother."

And then it's not his fingers pressing into him but his brother's cock, ivory white but for black patterns creeping from the base onto his stomach. He lets out a loud cry; there's nobody here to hear it except Sei. Sei presses in all the way to those black marks, his front pressed along Aoba's front, although Aoba's arms are still pulled away by the hair, although Aoba still can't hold him. He can't even wrap his legs around Sei's hips, those tied up and apart as well. He's just suspended to his brother's whims and tries to meet it, to hold him, in a way that doesn't involve his body. He rolls his hips up and against Sei's, he murmurs and groans and calls out to him like he could wrap Sei in his voice.

Sei accepts it; Sei rocks into him fast and hard, no longer teasing, as if each of those long brushes and passes of his hair had turned himself on as well. He murmurs Aoba's name in a voice gone ragged, he gazes with ice-blue eyes into Aoba's hazy amber ones, he fucks him hard and deep and surprisingly relentless and finally he freezes, pressed deep; Aoba can feel his cock twitching inside, a spreading heat.

Aoba _yells_ , desperate. He writhes in Sei's hair, he arches, he presses back, he feels Sei spilling inside him and he can't come. He feels Sei relax, sees Sei smile, and he can't come, thrusts back against Sei's unmoving body.

"Let me come," he sobs. "Brother...!"

"Shh," Sei says. And then, with an accepting sigh, "I'll release you, then."

Sei's hair unwinds all at once; Aoba falls, falls backward, falls away from him. Sei's cock slides out of him; he falls and slams into wakefulness, jolts in bed.

Ren's arm is around him, and he can feel Ren's hardness against his ass. Ren is trying to sleep, trying to ignore his own arousal, and Aoba can't take it. He doesn't know if Ren is still struggling to get to sleep or has already succeeded; he shoves Ren over onto his back, slings a leg over him. Either way Ren's eyes pop open and he draws a startled breath. "Aoba—"

"Ren," Aoba sobs, and without any more preparation than they'd done before Aoba fell asleep, he presses Ren into him, slams his hips back onto Ren, sitting on his waist. He stretches wide, filled, and comes at once, throwing his head back and sobbing out a cry.

"Aoba—"

"Move," Aoba commands him even as he comes, as he spatters up Ren's chest, and Ren lets out a helpless groan and obeys, rocks up into Aoba hard and fast, a driving pace. Aoba presses his hands against Ren's chest and rides it out. He doesn't feel oversensitive or ache; it just drags his pleasure out and he can't tell any more if he's even still coming or if he's awake or asleep. It just feels good, and he wraps in a bubble of pleasure and rolls his hips against him, shameless and wild, until Ren comes. 

After, exhausted, he collapses against Ren, shudders in those familiar arms, against that familiar chest, breathes in that familiar scent, both Sei and Ren together. He tries to find the words to explain, but his tongue is too numb and heavy, and he's not sure if he's still dreaming or not.

Understanding can wait until the morning.


End file.
